Song of the Sacae
by KingKazul400
Summary: After the end, the Company splits up and many return to what they were doing before the war. But two people remain within the other's heart, never forgetting what great deeds they had accomplished together. [LynRath]
1. Chapter 1: The Calling of the Sacae

Song of the Sacae  
  
Rath/Lyn pairing  
  
Chapter 1: The Calling of the Sacae  
  
In the shadows of the rising sun, a great Arabian horse galloped across the plains, making mere leagues perish beneath its stride. As each lenth of grass disappeared under its thundering hooves, a great column of dust and freshly trampled grass flew up in its wake. Giving a great neigh, the horse continued onward toward the northeast direction with the wind blowing behind it. The powerful muscles churned about the Arabian's body with sweat and dirt stuck fast to it. It then finally stopped at the call of its master, stopping for the stallion to recover from its morning gallop.  
  
On its back was its master, a young man with a piece of bright and colorful cloth bound about his head. Strapped across his back was his trustly bow he recently acquired, the Rienfletche. On his belt was his similarly trusty Silver Sword, yet it was not of similar fame. As the sun slowly shedded its light upon the awakening continent of Elibe, the familiar scar on his face revealed the young man to be one of great fame.  
  
It was Rath, the heir to reins of the Kutolah tribe.  
  
As Rath leaped off the back with skill and experience of many years behind him, the young Nomad quickly pulled a great container of water from a pack on the stallion along with a bowl of the same immensity. He dropped the bowl on the still wet dew-covered grass and pulled out the cork. Rath began to fill the bowl up to the brim with water. The stallion looked eagerly as the crystal clear water splashed every so often over the edges of the bowl, his long tongue hanging loose at the plethora of rare and delightful water.  
  
Finally, the bowl was full and the master corked the container of water and rested it against a rock. Giving a slight glance at his mount, the stallion quickly took several steps toward the bowl and began to drink.  
  
Looking at his surroundings, Rath sighed. His head slowly bent forward and he slowly sat down on a nearby rock. His right hand strayed upwards to his cloth bound hair and slowly tugged it loose. The cloth fell off and floated onto the ground beside the rock, all lonely and wishing for company. Rath shut his eyes and began to rub the area around his eyes, wishing for comfort and the prospect of sleep.  
  
It had been merely hours ago since he had just left the Company that saved the world from Nergal's vile plans. It took the combined forces of the might of the heroes of the long bygone past and the strength and will of the young Lords of Lycia to take down Nergal and his legions of Morphs. But their strength was not all it took to take the Dark Druid down.  
  
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The strength of Armands, wielded by Lord Hector was the first to strike, forcing the great Flame Dragon to loose a great amount of blood. The legendary axe bit deeply into the creature's flank, leaving a great gash.  
  
The skill of Durandal, wielded by Lord Eliwood was the next to bury itself into the foreign invader's flesh, causing the Dragon to become further incapitated. This blade also bit deeply, but caused greater damage as its ancient magics worked themselves against the dragon's power.  
  
Then came the power of Forblaze, wielded by the Archsage Athos, forced the Flame Dragon to back down against a stronger source of fire. The tome of the Archsage worked furiously, supplying fire stronger than that of the dragon's of flame itself.  
  
The force of Aureola, wielded by Lucius the Bishop, forced the Dragon back toward its domain and gave all the heroes a quick breather. The pure brightness of the tome of light blinded the Dragon, granting everyone a second attack.  
  
While Lucius was holding his own against the Dragon, Fiora led her sisters to attack the beast of flame with her long and shining Rex Hasta spinning over her head. Three swift blows pierced through the scaly armor of the Flame Dragon, forcing it to rear back in pain.  
  
But the Flame Dragon still struggled to fight to the death. It had spat enough flame to scorch the earth at least twice over but one swift blow from the Sol Katti halted the Dragon's long and over-stretched range of firepower. As the Lady Lyndis spun about the neck of the great beast, Rath had sighted his target.  
  
The Dragon's open maw.  
  
All it took was one shot from his Rienfletche bow to end the creature's life. That legendary bow had sent an arrow of pure speed through the beast's neck, piercing through the bottom of it's giant maw, striking the brain. The Dragon gave one last howl of anger and defeat and struck up one last firestorm which swept through the entire company.  
  
Almost all the magic wielders brushed the wave of fire aside as if it were an wrinkle on their shoulder. But the rest were sheltered beneath a great dome erected by the Archsage Athos and the Mage General Pent. Almost everyone had managed to get into the shelter of magic.   
  
All except two.  
  
"Lady Lyndis!" Kent had yelled once he realized his charge didn't make it. "Where are you?"  
  
Athos began to buckle beneath the weight of the firestorm. With a heavy grunt, the ancient sage looked at his only pupil.  
  
"Looks like you'd best hold the rest of this dome up, Pent," he said as a droplet of sweat coursed down his nose. "I think... the end is near for me..." Pent nodded his head and put more of his magical energies into the shield.  
  
Kent continued to run and search frantically about the interior fo the dome, yelling and tripping over equipment dropped by those who got inside.  
  
"Lady Lyndis!" the Crimson Shield continued to dither, his blood drenched Silver Sword unsheathed in his hands. "Lady Lyndis!"  
  
As Kent continued to dash about, his hopes of finding his charge were quickly fading. But at the same time, a certain Swordmaster with a bandanna around his head was also running around, searching for an missing ally.  
  
"Rath!" Guy hollered with his own blood-stained Silver Sword out. "Rath of the Kutolah! Do you hear me?" His boot treaded and snapped a bow that was cast aside. He swiftly knelt down and immediately recognized the owner's mark on the bow. His eyes widened and Guy got up quickly.  
  
"He's out there!" Guy yelled at the nearest person, Vaida the Wyvern General. "Rath the Nomad Trooper is still out there!" Vaida gave a snear of contempt, causing Guy to step back in fear.  
  
"Does it look like I give a damn about that Nomad?" Vaida spat as she shoved Guy away from her. She yanked out her Silver Sword and swung it menacingly. "Get away from me you worthless worm of the Sacae." She stormed off and Guy looked helplessly about. A certain clanking noise was heard several feet away and Guy immediately recognized who it was.  
  
"General Wallace! Thank Father Sky you're still in battle armor!" said Guy as he clung onto the shoulder plate of the Knight General. Lifting his visor up, Wallace looked sternly at the smaller Swordmaster.  
  
"I dare say, Guy, when's the last time you've really had a meal? You look like a stick compared to the recruits I once trained." Looking up at the dome surrounded by fire, Wallace gave a low whistle. "The last time I saw this was when I played with fire. Oh well, I don't suppose you know-" Looking back down at his shoulder plate, Wallace gave a sigh. Guy had quickly disappeared and was heard screeching for help.  
  
"Ah well, young folks these days. They don't even have time to hear an experienced veteran and their past victories. Oh well..."  
  
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When the Flame Dragon let loose a firestorm, Rath immediately rode for the nearest cover. Taking shelter in a fissure that was wide enough to accomodate his horse within the walls, Rath quickly took a quick look outside of his shelter.  
  
A great dome of pure magic was erected quickly a distance away, glimmering and shimmering as each bolt of the firestorm struck the barrier. A great wave of fire would slam itself against the barrier, causing great clashes of light which blinded Rath momentarily.  
  
Knowing his excellent vision would be ruined by staring too long at the lights, Rath began to scan the rest of the battlefield. Bodies laid about the area, slowing being fried crisp. Several were still moving, just barely. The Kutolah tribeman pulled out his Silver Sword, ready to grant any of the still living a quicker way to their final destination.  
  
Stepping out from the safety of the crack in the wall, Rath edged slowly toward the closest still moving body. As he came closer to the soot covered form, a glimmer of green hair moved, just barely several feet away from where the limbs were still moving. Dropping his sword in surprise, Rath immediately ran to the body's side.  
  
"Lyndis!" he cried as he knelt next to her. "Are you alright? Speak to me, please!" When she made no response, Rath tried to resuscitate her.  
  
Rolling her petite form was easy enough but once Rath saw her beautiful face covered in soot, the Nomad Trooper almost could not do so. Touching her, even if it meant saving her life, would be something that he's rather not do. Unlike most of the rest of the men in the company, Rath would much rather die than sleep with a woman who is not his wife.  
  
But as much as he loath to stick with his morals, the call of keeping a fellow Sacaen alive is thumping louder than the drums of the Kutolah tribe. Bending his head over, he placed his ear on Lyn's chest. Yes, he knew his head was close to an area most men would kill to gaze upon but he had a duty to fulfill. Listening as hard as a person could with a great furnace roaring about them, he heard the faintest of heartbeats.  
  
*thump-thump* *...* *thump-thump* *...* *thump...thump...* *...*  
  
But they slowly faded away. Rath panicked and tried to collect himself.  
  
"Now's not the time to panic, you fool!" he muttered to himself as he took several deep breathes. "Calm down!" When his bout of nerves went away as quickly as they came, Rath began his work.  
  
With one finger, he swiftly checked if there was anything blocking her breathing. Swiping it through her mouth, Rath was satisfied that there wasn't anything in there. Tilting her head back so that she can breathe more clearly later, Rath steeled himself. The next part might make him think of dark and evil thoughts but to save an Sacaen, that is more important than being branded as a pervert.  
  
Gently, he pinched Lyn's nose and placed his other hand at the tip of her chin. Parting her lips, Rath inhaled a deep breathe into his mouth, careful to not allow a single drop of his saliva to fall into her mouth. Leaning forward as he shut his eyes, Rath gave a long slow breathe out. Leaning back up, Rath noticed Lyn's chest rising up, a good sign that air was reaching her lungs. With more confidence, Rath gave another breathe of life to her.  
  
After one more successive breathe, Rath grimaced as he knew what to do next. Pulling off his handkerchief, he bound it around his right hand. Wrapping it tightly, Rath hoped to the gods that he may never do this again. With his left hand over his tightly bound right, Rath placed both hands over the center of Lyn's chest. Pushing down with both elbows locked, Rath hoped that he would never feel more thna he needed.  
  
Compressing her chest fifteen times, Rath quickly cast aside his handkerchief and sat back, disgusted. She was breathing, but in a shallow manner. As her chest rose and fell slowly, Rath slowly got up.  
  
Was it right to touch a woman, even to save her life? Gods, what were the chances of him saving a woman's life by touching her.  
  
Slapping his hands on his sides, Rath wished that he'd never touched Lyn to save her life. The stench of immorallity reeks on his hands. Frustrated by the torture of dishonoring his dignity, Rath began to walk away. But before he could, a great earth rendering noise erupted about them.  
  
The quake tossed the small pieces of masonry on the ground about, several nearly striking him. As Rath began to move quickly, he noticed a great crack suddenly opening up. The fissure was moving fast. His eyes scanned the future targets and Rath cannot believe it again. The cracks would soon lead to Lyndis's inert form, ready to swallow her into the depths of the earth.  
  
Another great seismic wave struck the earth, forcing Rath to lose his balance. As he stumbled, he heard Lyn moan. Getting up as quickly as he could, Rath gently picked Lyn up.  
  
Yes, she was wounded in the struggle against the Dragon. Rath had feared that her injuried she sustained were all but the worst. Luckily, she had gotten away with a few scratches and one unbelievably shallow slash wound on her sword arm. It would take weeks or even months for that to heal.  
  
As Rath carried his load carefully while running across temple floor being shattered by a seismic wave, Lyn slowly opened her eyes. While she was still pale in the face from slight blood loss, she was glad to be at least alive. Lyn's vision slowly focused and she soon realized who was saving her. No, it was not Eliwood. Nor was it Hector. But thank the gods that it was a fellow Sacaen that saved her.  
  
When Rath finally reached the fissure within the temple walls where his horse was stored, Rath gently laid Lyn on the rocky ground and quickly went to his pack on his horse. Pulling out a woolen blanket, he wrapped Lyn in the Sacaen made fabric. While he was wrapping Lyn to prevent her from going into shock, he realized that her eyes were open.  
  
They held each other with their own eyes, communicating in a way that most outsiders of the Sacae would never understand. As they continued to link eyes, Rath placed Lyn's amazingly soft hand within his own rough one. Not a word was needed to be exchanged as Lyn nodded her head knowingly.  
  
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But what does Rath know about the true Lyn? Can it be that his heart fell for a girl of a different class than him? Sometimes, the Nomad Trooper wondered why the heavens have split the people of the earth to different social classes.  
  
"Why? Why must she be of something better than me while here I am, sitting on a rock, sharing the same water that my horse drinks? Why?" Rath yelled at the clear Sacaen sky.  
  
Nothing answered him. His horse looked at him in curiosity. It then resumed to eating the dew-covered grass. Simmering, Rath gripped his hands tightly until his knuckles became white, his fingernails digging into hsi palm. A familiar warm trickle then coursed from his hands, staining the rich green grass when his blood left his body to fall onto the earth.  
  
Rath got up and kicked the rock he sat on. The force of his kick knocked the rock over, exposing the dark and wet underside of the rock and the pit it sat in. Bugs and other lowly creatures of the earth scrambled for cover, seeking shade against the rising sun.  
  
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Lyndis had woken up with the sun, just like any other day since she began her long trek with an previously unknown tactician by the name of Mark. But unlike the other days since then, there was no joy in the morning no more.  
  
That joy had left her. Today is the day when all of the company would say their good-byes to everyone else. Already several had begun to leave and there was one that had already left.  
  
Rath of the Kutolah.  
  
Here she was, sitting in her tent. Her family heirlooms, her Manni Katti and Sol Katti swords, and even her father's own set of bow and arrows. All that was dear to her was here. But one thing was missing from her collection.  
  
As hard as she tried, Lyndis couldn't hold back the tears that were forming in her eyes. A great pearly drop of salt mixed with water fell from eyes to land on her lap. The drop stained her nightgown, leaving a dark spot on her cotten night wear.  
  
Standing up, she slowly approached the bow and arrow sets. Almost all of these were her fathers. Only one of them didn't belong to neither her father or Lyndis herself. Picking up the foreign bow, she gave an experiemental draw. The string reached back to her right cheek, barely giving her any strain. She then slowly placed the string back to its former position, not wanting to exhaust the string with dry shots.  
  
Turning the ranged weapon in her hands, Lyndis found the familiar markings and etchings that showed who owned the weapon. Tracing the designs of a great wolf hunting on the plains, Lyndis felt another wave of sadness crash into her.  
  
This short bow was given to her by Rath, just merely days ago.  
  
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"Lady Lyndis," Rath had said that day as he approached her with the bow in his arms. "I want you to have this."  
  
"It's beautiful, Rath," she had said. "But it's yours, is it not?"  
  
"Yes it is, milady," Rath replied. "But I have plenty more. That is just something that I made on my spare time. Perhaps you can add it to your collection."  
  
"Thank you, but how did you find out?"  
  
"A good friend of mine told me, milady. Consider this a gift from the Kutolah tribe to the Lorca tribe."  
  
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And now he was gone. Just like the wind of the Sacae. Just gone like the wind.  
  
The Lady Lyndis, formerly of the Lorca tribe, collapsed onto the ground and broke down, sobbing for one who has left her.  
  
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Okay, this may seem unusual for me, the author, to say this but... WRITER'S BLOCK IS A PAIN!! I take one month off for vacation and I end up with only 1 new fic and barely any new chapters for everything else.  
  
Yeesh! 


	2. Chapter 2: A Change for the Better

Song of the Sacae  
  
Lyn/Rath Pairing  
  
Chapter 2: A Change for the Better

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Rath looked up at the distant horizon, immersing himself in the vibrant colors of the Sacaen sunset. Great regions of red and orange mixed with the churning purple clouds, creating what seemed to be something out of a Mage's mind. Yes, nature has its own brand of magic it seems.  
  
Great formations of birds, traveling through the plains from Ilia to Bern, flew into the vortex. Looking at the birds, Rath noticed two of them happened to be rather attached to the other. Whenever one flew one way, the other would follow. Averting his attention from the birds to the dirt before his feet, Rath sighed.  
  
(It was good to be back home,) the Nomad Trooper thought as the shadows grew longer. (Yes, it's good to be back.)  
  
Standing up, he knocked the dirt from his trousers. His hands were still sore but Rath was sure that they would quickly heal. Placing two fingers into his mouth, he whistled sharply for his horse.  
  
As he stepped from the shadows cast by the trees, he took a deep breathe, tasting the cool air mixed with drying dew and still wet grass. Yes, this was the taste of freedom, a taste that many had sought for and many have longed for.  
  
It was still light enough to travel, but only for a moment. The stark contrast between light and darkness on the plains has always fascinated Rath since he was a child. Perhaps he will experience the meaning of true darkness tonight.  
  
Tossing his pack back onto his Arabian, Rath gave a quick check on his ride. Yes, it looked well watered and fed. The tension that was in its legs have been replaced by the jittery nerves that usually inflict themselves upon a horse when it's ready to go for a sprint.  
  
Smiling as he climbed on, Rath knew that his horse would take him well into the distance. Pulling the reigns, he made it so his horse would be facing the sunset. Giving a small clicking of his tongue, he urged his horse to race toward the sun.  
  
In a column of grass and dirt, the Arabian charged forward, neighing triumphantly. No one may be around to witness their challenge to the setting sun but as the Sacaens put it:  
  
"The Wolf shall challenge the Sun and the Wind, but the Swift Ones will prevail."  


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Lady Lyndis emerged from her tent, weary and drained. She had changed to her traditional Sacaen garb, one of the many spares she had brought along from her homeland. It was the blue full-length dress with green embroidery along the edges. It was also the one that she had wore when she first met Rath.  
  
She wandered about the slowly awakening camp, thinking of the things that she had done alongside her fellow Sacaen. Rath was the only one she had come to truly respect. While the stoic Nomad Trooper was never one for much words, Lyn knew that he had his reasons.  
  
Coming toward the kitchen area, she smelled the aromas being conjured up by the cooks on duty. When she rounded around the last of the tents, a small organized chaos was underway.  
  
Merlinus the Merchant, was on one side, muttering wildly as he mixed pancake batter as he read from a cooking book. The blue-haired morning cook was so intent in both reading and mixing the batter that he nearly caused the batter to spill out of its container.  
  
Lowen the Cavalier, was at the other side of the kitchen area mixing grains of different varieties together in a great mixing bowl. The wild green-haired youth muttered words that Lyn had heard in a bar before but never in the kitchen.  
  
Standing in the center of the kitchen area was one person whom Lyn was so sure would never pass a cooking lesson taught by a very, very patient mother. With pancake batter and grain stuck in his crimson hair, Kent looked worthy of a smacking from his own mother. Looking guiltily from Lowen to Merlinus, the young Knight Retainer seemed rather ruffled to have Lyn finding him in such a state.  
  
Lyn giggled as Kent tried to hide himself behind a crate of dried meats. "Kent, I've never thought of you as the cooking type of person."  
  
"Well, milady, there's always a time for a man to step up to the mixing bowl with a spoon to take on the job of a woman," Kent said. He then hastily added, "No offense or anything to you, milady."  
  
"Oh Kent, you're always a good person no matter how badly you don't succeeed," Lyn said.  
  
"You mean fail so spectacularly that he makes it seem like nothing compared with the time he tried to hold back Sain from flirting with Florina?" Merlinus muttered darkly. "I heard that he got his buttocks beaten by that talented young Pegasi Knight."  
  
"Or a terrible cook for that matter," Lowen grumbled as he vehemently smacked his mixing spoon against the edge of his bowl. "He's made this too sticky. Now it'll stick right to the bottom of the pot when we cook it!"  
  
"Aye, a terrible fate will befall you, young knight, if you dare step inside this kitchen once more!" Merlinus said darkly to Kent as he pointed his spoon in Kent's face. "Mark my words, you... you... imbecile of a cook!"  
  
"Okay, okay! I get the message, Merlinus. You should've just grabbed Sain this morning instead of me for kitchen duty." Kent tried to dodge Merlinus's angrily thrown spoon. It connected and left a lump on Kent's forehead along with a dab of pancake mix.  
  
"You get yourself out of my kitchen right now!"  


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It was still light when the small figure of Rath upon his horse in the distance slowly approached his tribe's last known location. It was near a stretch of woods, a rare sight on the almost never-ending plains of the Sacae. Upon spying the woods, he urged his horse to ride faster. Giving a snort of indignation, the stallion charged toward the woods.  
  
The familiar thundering noise of hooves striking the earth mystified Feng Loung. He was on guard duty in the name of the Kutolah Tribe. Drawing his Steel Sword, the Myrmidion cautiously peered around a tree. Nothing will get past him this day.  
  
Ever since they had lost four tribesmen to Ganelon mountain thieves a year ago, a bitter anger had settled upon the Kutolah tribe. Upon sighting a thief, be it allied with the Ganelon or not, they have all full rights to shoot them dead. So far, Feng has proven himself at least ten times in combat against those carrion crows.  
  
A faint breeze suddenly kicked up, tossing leaves and other organic matter into the air. Attuning his ears to any footsteps, Feng heard a faint almost inaudible snap of a twig. Taking cover behind the tree, he carefully blended himself into the scenery.  
  
With his sword raised before him, Feng looked hard at the blade and prayed. He had been wounded by a mountain thief before and the pain from the axe had been unbearable. Feng just hopes that the weapon of choice this time would be wielded by a green and inexperienced brigand.  
  
The footsteps fell once more, pausing every so often, as if the intruder was straining his own ears for a noise. Feng could hear the breathe of the bandit, each time louder and each time closer. Slowing exchanging his Steel Sword from his right to his left hand, Feng could hear more twigs snapping under the footsteps.  
  
At last, the intruder walked directly past the tree Feng was blended against. Looking at the back of the man, Feng knew what to do. Pushing himself against the tree, Feng launched himself forward with his Steel Sword pointed for the stab between the shoulder blades.  
  
Time seemed to slow down. Feng didn't make a sound. His blade's tip was almost there. Somehow, this always seemed to be the most difficult part to kill a person.  
  
But at the last possible second, the intruder fell forward and rolled aside. Feng was caught by surprise and fell onto the floor of the forest. His sword was planted into the moist and damp earth, shaking from the impact it made into the Mother Earth. Feng struggled to get up but a boot was jammed onto his back. Howling out in pain, for the boot struck his wound from that accursed bandit, Feng struggled to get the weight, the painful weight, off of his back.  
  
"Who are you?" a raspy voice said as the boot applied more and more painful pressure onto the scar. "Why are you upon the land of my tribesman?" Feng tried to knock the foot off but the flat of a sword knocked his hand aside.  
  
"Speak if you have a tongue," the voice said harshly. "I have no time to waste with incompetent warriors such as yourself."  
  
Upon hearing such insults, Feng spat at his enemy. "I am Feng Loung, member of the Kutolah Tribe. If you so as much dare to fight a man that is unarmed, you are a coward."  
  
The voice chuckled. "Coward? I believe it was you who dared to strike a man from behind, young Feng of the Kutolah. If you wish to regain your honor, then stand up and arm yourself."  
  
Feng felt the boot slide off of his back and he quickly scrambled up. Ripping his blade out of the earth with venom, Feng grinned darkly at his cloaked foe.  
  
Sizing his opponent, Feng was pleased to have easy pickings. This man, this old bent man, was armed with a sword that looks older than his own ancient Iron Sword from his childhood. Feng couldn't see the facial features of the man but he didn't care. This was truly a good day to kill a intruder, even if he was a member of the Kutolah Tribe.  
  
"You ready, young Feng of the Kutolah?" the old man said rasply. The old man leaned on one side, favoring his right leg and arm.  
  
Grinning, Feng launched himself forward. His blade screamed through the air for blood as did Feng himself thirsted for blood. Giving a unearthly howl of darkness, Feng struck at the old man. His blade went through the cloak's material.  
  
Turning around, Feng's smirk melted into anger and confusion. Where the old man was, there was only a cloak and a stick. He had been fooled!  
  
Looking about the woods, Feng heard a voice calling from every direction. "Nice slash, young Feng. Your form, however, needs improvement. Your foot and sword arm should be parallel to each so that they act as one. Try again."  
  
Feng heard the crackle of a bush and he threw his sword in that direction. It whistled through the air, screaming for blood and beggings of mercy.  
  
"THUNK!" The blade bit deeply into the tree, quivering.  
  
Out of the darkness, a hand slid out of nowhere and snatched the blade out of the tree with almost careless ease. The voice of the old man then spoke again.  
  
"Excellent sword you have, young Feng. But it is not the weapon that is the master. It is the wielder who is the master. But until you can master your own rage, to tap it for a good purpose, you cannot wield a weapon of such worthy caliber."  
  
A pair of hands then appeared from nowhere and held the sword, double-handed style. Raising the sword above a rock, the hands brought the Steel Sword down. The blade smashed agains the rock, quivering madly. The hands then raised it again and brought it back down. It then shattered into two pieces.  
  
All that was left was the hilt and the blade. 

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Author Notes:

Okay, I'm not dead so don't send flowers to my family. I just took a month long break (this fic was done during then) from doing fanfiction in order to study for my Spring Exams.

Oh, and this "QuickEdit" thingie is not useful for me. I'd rather have it stored on NotePad (with a BackUp copy) for my own editing purposes. Oh well...


	3. Chapter 3: Forgotten Dreams

Author's Notes:  
  
Hehe, thanks for the Reviews! Here's the Replies...  
  
DarkLink313:

You're not an idiot... just a tad bit of an oddball. Oh, and just the record, I'm going to include the "implication" of a lemon in here sometime later. Don't worry, "Lost Hearts" will be back on track once I lose my touch with this one. Which is almost ready...  
  
But anyways, I'll take a stab at it. From what you said, I think I'll like it. I did read the first chapter and reviewed it but then I got caught up in Exam Preparations. Sorry about that...  
  
Houyoku:

Kent, in my opinion, is more of the stiff guy who'd rather be manly than do basic life skills. Therefore, it is fitting to have the Crimson Shield being incapable to applying survival skills in the field. The old man... expect a twist.  
  
Ed, the Master Tactician:

I agree. The "QuickEdit" thing is a pain. I'm thinking of sending a e-mail of protest to the admins soon. In fact, I just did it! () Yay for me!  
  
The Story Master 125:

Yeesh, you're making me blush! This is only me writing when I'm totally unmotivated!

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Chapter 3: Forgotten Dreams  
  
Dragging her feet as she slowly walked up the gangplank, Lyn glanced briefly at the sea before her. Here she was, in in the Port of Badon, ready to start her life all over.  
  
Why had she come here? This she doesn't know. Some force, perhaps from the gods themselves, compelled her to come here. her mind and soul didn't understand why but her spirit and feet understood.  
  
There was something to be atoned for...  
  
By coming to the Port of Badon, she had awaited a sign. At first, she had decided to stay at the local inn for a sign. But no sooner than the ocean breeze had swept into her mind, that strange force from the heavens compelled her to follow it.  
  
And now, here she was. Lyndis of the Lorca Tribe, heroine of the Morph War, standing before the ocean.  
  
But to where?  
  
Another breeze swept through her soul, cleansing her thoughts of any doubts. Yes, it was a good day to go sailing.  
  
As she looked about the deck, which was somewhat oddly clear of any living life, Lyn had one thought return from the refuse it was swept into.  
  
(Rath... why did you leave me so?) she sadly thought.  
  
Several days ago, just right after she had left the Company, Lyn took a horse to a familiar deserted fort in Kathelet. There, she treaded through the empty halls, grimacing and tasting those familiar and still painful sights of death against the Black Fang.  
  
She had reached the highest part of the deserted fort when she decided to take one last look at the open country between the fort and the woods. Such beauty...  
  
Raising her Mani Katti sword, Lyn looked unwaverlingly at the sharpened edge. Running her soft left hand on it, she grimaced when the faintest press caused some of her warm blood to appear in a thin read line on the palm of her hand. Letting go, she let some of her own blood to spill upon the cold stone floor. There, the blood of the Sacae mixed with the blood she had spilt at this same place a year ago.  
  
But looking at the crimson sunset, Lyn shut her eyes and removed her left hand from the hilt. Twisting her right wrist, the Mani Katti sword gleamed in the fading sun. With the blade barely seperated from her neck by a fraction of air, Lyn could feel the cold edge of the sword.  
  
Perhaps she can atone for the deaths she caused...  
  
Drawing her sword arm back, Lyn steeled herself to slice at her own pure throat. Her arm, steadily shaking, resisted all the mental commands she gave. Biting her lower lip, Lyn ordered her right arm to do it. Her arm still refused.  
  
But at the last minute, a brief thought stopped her hand from slicing her pure throat to spill her rich red blood. She had cast away her weapon since, vowing never to raise a weapon against anyone.  
  
Even in self-defense.

* * *

Before she had left the Company mere days ago, she had stopped by Florina's tent after the cooking incident.  
  
"Florina," Lyn said as she pressed a letter packet into the sleepy Falcon Knight's hands. "Will you take this letter and deliver it to its destination?"  
  
"S-s-sure," Florina said as she yawned. It was barely dawn and Lyn could see that Florina had spent the night thinking about somebody. "Who's it for?"  
  
Standing there without moving, Lyn shook her head. "I'd rather not say. Just fly out to the Sacae and you'll find him." Hefting her travel pack, Lyn left through the tent flaps.  
  
Lyn had merely moved several yards toward where the horses were corraled when she heard a familiar voice call out.  
  
"Lyn, wait up!" Florina called in the glow of the slowly rising sun.  
  
Turning around with her hands shielding her eyes from the sun, the Blade Lord found herself bowled over by the normally taciturn Ilian Knight.  
  
"P-p-please! Don't leave!" Florina sobbed into Lyn's tunic. "W-w-what'll I do, w-w-without y-y-you?" The Falcon Knight collapsed onto the dew-covered grass in tears.  
  
"Florina," Lyn said softly as she knelt right next to her dear friend. "I must do this. If I had a choice, I would return to the Sacae with you. But hear me out. I must return to the Dread Isle."  
  
"T-t-the Dread Isle? Y-y-you've lost it, Lyn!" Florina then went into another fit of sobs. "N-n-now you're, g-g-going to leave me here, all alone?"  
  
"You're not going to be alone, Florina," Lyn said in the same soft tone. "You've got your sisters once again."  
  
Then, a mischeivous grin danced onto Lyn's face. "The last I heard from Eliwood, Hector seems to be completely enamored with you." At that, Florina suddenly stopped crying.  
  
"R-r-really? I-i-it can't be..." Florina's mind completely drifted away. "A lord of Lycia, enamored? With me?"  
  
"Dry up those tears, Florina," Lyn said encouragingly as she helped her dear friend up. "It's not right for someone as pretty as you to spoil her own face for a lord. Think of it, Florina. You and Hector, bonded in holy matrimony."

* * *

Shaking her head at the memory that was several days old, Lyn felt slightly guilty. It was true that Hector liked Florina but the Great Lord can't seem to make up his mind which of the three Falcon Knight sisters to marry.  
  
'I tell you, Lyn,' the future Lord of Ostia grumbled once over the dinner table. 'I can't decide which of these women to court. Uther told me to settle down soon, seeing that he's falling ill too many times. I've told him my mind's made up before we left but... I can't!'  
  
'Just close your eyes and pick one, Hector,' Eliwood quickly responded as he speared a bit of steak on his fork. 'At least you've got a bit of a choice. Look at me. I'm courting Ninian and I'm a bit unsure of her origins. Has there ever been another Lord in Lycia who's courted a Dancer?'  
  
'Meh... who cares? As long as... you know.' The young Lord of Ostia raised his eyebrows knowingly several times. 'You get my drift, Eliwood?'  
  
'Eh...' the young Lord of Pherae sat there with his fork halfway to his mouth. 'I'm not sure what you're trying to say but I think I know what you mean.'  
  
'Hm... you men are such pigs,' Lyn herself said as she sipped some ale. 'Always thinking of those piggish thoughts. It's a wonder why you men aren't pigs at all!'  
  
'Heh, what's wrong with that?' Hector jokingly grinned. Placing his fingers on his ears and scrunching up his nose, Hector began to mimic a pig.  
  
'Oink! Oink! Oink!' he snorted as he rolled his eyes.  
  
(What a lucky guy... at least he's got someone to be with.) Lyn thought bitterly as she bit her lower lip. (I do hope I can atone for what I've done.)  
  
Stopping for a moment, Lyn dropped her travel pack onto the wooden deck. All she had brought along apart from the clothes on her back were several small items in the relatively light pack she brought. Inside were another change of clothes, a small kit for wilderness survival, a pouch of gold, some food rations and other memorabilia from her journey.  
  
Looking back at the ship, Lyn continued her trudge up the slope. Reaching the top, a familiar grizzled face greeted her.  
  
"Welcome aboard, Lady Lyndis," Farghus the captain said cheerfully. "I'd be obliged to take you to any destination on the open seas. Providing that we don't sail off the edge of the world, of course."  
  
"Is there-" Lyn said as she reached toward her pouch of gold.  
  
"A fee? No, no, heavens no! Ever since you and your friends helped the crew out of that spot of trouble a while back, my crew will never take any payment from you. Not on tiny piece of gold will leave your hands while you're aboard my ship. Not one piece!" Farghus then whistled for a crew member.  
  
A young ruddy and sun-burned man came running up from the mess hall. He was wearing a red kerchief on his head with a blue and white striped shirt. With aquiline eyes, akin to those of an hawk, Lyn though this specimen of a man looked rather attractive. Underneath the kerchief was a bit of green hair.  
  
"This is Garth, Dart's, or maybe I should say Dan's, best shipmate. He'll show you to your room. Don't hesitate to ask a crew member about the ship. I'll swear it upon my own honor that they'll not touch a single hair on you. Now, if you'll need me, I'll be either at the helm of the ship or in my cabin."  
  
Watching Farghus limping off to the back of the ship, Lyn smiled shyly at Garth the Pirate. Likewise, the Pirate smiled back, faintly.  
  
"Well," Garth said gruffly as a breeze suddenly whipped up. "I guess I'll show you about the ship." The Pirate turned around and gestured for Lyn to follow him.  
  
After several minutes of random conversation, Lyn found herself walking beside him, Lyn couldn't help but admire the Pirate's green hair beneath the kerchief.  
  
(Perhaps these wave riders are more than just gruff drunkards.)

* * *

After several hard days of searching, Florina was glad to see the last remains of a camp. Flying lower, the Pegasus Knight found more and more evidence of a recent meeting. Touching down, Florina patted the nose of her Pegasus gently.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered to it. The winged horse neighed gladly in reply and flapped toward the nearest patch of grass.  
  
Placing her hands on her knees, Florina examined the remains of a recent meeting.  
  
A bit of ash was scattered, possibly by a fight. There was a scuffle as Florina could tell. Judging from the size of the boots, a duel happened. One was older than the other, perhaps in his forties. The younger, probably in his late teens, was hasty from the way his boots scuffed the rich dark earth.  
  
Following the trail that the pair of feet left, Florina finally stood up. Looking at the trail, Florina couldn't believe it.  
  
There was a dead body... 

* * *

Sairn: Gasp Can you believe it?! A DEAD BODY?! OMG!!!

Fiora: Meh, your guess is as good as mine...

Sairn: WHO IS IT?!

Fiora: I dunno, read the next chapter (if Kingkazul400 gets his lazy ass in gear)

Sairn: Heh, does that mean you like me? ()

Fiora: ... ... ... ... No.

Sairn: WAH!!!! cries in a corner

Fiora: As always, Kingkazul400 wishes for a review so that he becomes "highly motivated" just like the Marines are always "highly motivated".

R & R, PEOPLE!


	4. Chapter 4: Blood of the Tribe

Author's Notes: Okay, here I am in Camp Coker as a camp counselor. Teaching younger Boy Scouts basic First Aid and other merit badge courses are getting to me. Only three days on the job and I'm really losing it.  
  
I'm sorry to the readers about not being punctual in updating. I only have a laptop with me and I'm sharing a lodge with three other counselors. Being a staff member sharing a lodge is way better than being a regular Boy Scout living in the woods. But enough about my skill as an Eagle Scout.  
  
I will now divert your attention from my summer job to the next chapter of "Song of the Sacae."  
  
==========  
  
Chapter 4: Blood of the Tribe  
  
==========  
  
"GUY!"  
  
Lying several feet away from a terrified Florina was the body of Guy. The pink-haired Falcon Knight stood there, horrified. She looked over her shoulder several times, each time fearing that an unknown killer might strike out.  
  
This cannot be...  
  
Guy, the Swordmaster, had proven himself many times over in combat. Many times he had saved Florina and other people from death, just by swooping in at the last moment with his Killing Edge. But this time, someone better must have beaten him.  
  
Who could it have been? It most certainly couldn't have been Karla since she and Bartre fell for each other shortly after meeting. No, the cuts and slashes were most definitely of Sacaen origin but of all the people Florina had met, none had the specific style that was carved into Guy's body.  
  
Perhaps... Guy did it himself...  
  
Stepping carefully toward the body of the formerly living Swordmaster, Florina nearly sicked on top of Guy's body. There was a great slash wound across the chest of the Sacaen, splitting Guy's tunic asunder. Blood stained it and caked the earth but something intrigued her.  
  
Out of the wound, blood continued to leak of Guy's life essence. The head moved slightly and a small groan of pain and agony escaped the lips of the fallen man. The eyes fluttered open but could scarcely keep open.  
  
"Flor... Florina?" Guy rasped. He moved his left hand, stretching out to Florina, seeking for solace and a lifeline. Looking at the hand, Florina couldn't help but feel more queasy.  
  
The hand was severely injured. His forefinger was missing and blood slowly seeped from the injured stump. Dirt caked the wound, causing the brown earth to be stained with the blood of the Sacaen. But the wound to Guy's finger wasn't all there was. Along the back of his hand, a deep cut was in it. It was slowly healing but bugs would continue to crawl into it, drinking his blood.  
  
"Guy!" Florina screamed. The Falcon Knight quickly knelt down and caressed the fallen Swordmaster's head. "W-w-what happened?"  
  
Guy lurched forward and coughed up a small amount of blood. "I do not know..." he weakly said, looking into her eyes. "A stranger, an old man, was being menaced by a wild youth." He then went into another coughing fit, forcing more of his blood mixed with his phlegm to come up.  
  
"Guy... please... don't speak too much," Florina scrabbled for the small pack she carries on the back of her waist. Fishing for something, she panicked when she realized that she left her elixir with her Pegasus. With not much of a choice, she pulled out a vulnerary.  
  
"Hang on, Guy," Florina said as she administered the minor curing agent. Uncorking the top of the brown container, she tipped it onto Guy's lips. Looking into those pained eyes, Florina's heart nearly stopped.  
  
Those green iridescent pools...  
  
Florina felt as if time was slowing down. Bugs, those annoying bloodsucking minions of darkness, no longer hummed in the background. The wind, instead of lashing about them with fury, was now gently caressing them.  
  
Looking back at her through his pained eyes, Guy could sense the world slowly collapsing onto him. The canopies of trees, were slowly swimming in and out of his vision. Gods, the singing of the birds were fading also. Everything was reeling before him and whirling about him as if he was drunk.  
  
"Is this it?" Guy murmured softly in between sips of the vulnerary. "Is this how death feels?"  
  
"Guy..." Florina murmured as she slowly removed the empty vulnerary from his lips. "Please... hang on... for my sake..."  
  
Guy struggled to fight the darkness. "I.. I don't think... I can hold on..." Guy grinned weakly at Florina. "I'm fighting it... but I fear..."  
  
"Don't speak like that!" exclaimed Florina as she blinked back tears. "I'll call for my Pegasus. She'll have the elixir. Fight the darkness! Fight it!"  
  
Guy shook his head slowly. "Don't be too sure..."  
  
There was a strange pale look on his face. Florina was sure that Guy was slowly dieing from blood loss. Surely, the elixir, it will make him recover. Yes, surely that pale blue liquid will heal him.  
  
Placing two fingers in her mouth, Florina gave a piercing whistle which Guy even winced. Hearing the sound of flapping wings, Florina began to call for her Pegasus.  
  
"Here, Huey!" she yelled as she waved her arms for its attention. "Come on down!" The Pegasus gave a snort as it plummeted down gracefully. At the last second, it did a spiral and landed gracefully on its hooves onto the earth.  
  
Florina immediately wasted no time searching for the elixir. Racing against time, she ripped through the pack on her Pegasus. Digging through the cornucopia of strange items that she never even thought she packed, she finally found a blue vial. While she was at it, she also found a hefty wad of bandages and some rubbing alcohol.  
  
Immediately, she gathered these healing items into her arms and raced back to Guy. When she got there, Florina couldn't help but scream.  
  
A beast, a beast of strange mutation, leered at her. This creature stood taller than either Florina or Guy and was hunched over. On its hands were the longest claws that either both seasoned warriors have ever seen in their travels. It was standing next to Guy, ready to sink its yellow and bloodstained jaws into the incapitated Sacaen. Guy weakly tried to knock the creature away but the beast snarled, forcing Guy to attempt to curl up and roll away.  
  
Scanning through her memory of wild creatures of Elibe, Florina realized what this monster was. It was a Bugbear, a creature that was created from the mutation of dark magic infused into a regular bear. Myths and legends surrounded these beasts. Florina herself had heard of the scary tales when she was a child but never in her worst nightmare had she thought she would ever encounter these monsters.  
  
The Bugbear, with long lines of drool falling from its overlong fangs, continued to toy with Guy. The Swordmaster shouted in agony as a long claw raked his right leg, causing further damage to his already incapitated leg. A great streak of crimson Sacaen blood oozed from the once disturbed wound, staining the Bugbear's claws and the earth upon the three breathing beings stood upon.  
  
Florina could feel the stifled air about her slowly caving in on her. She was slowly accustomed to the business of slaying Morphs and their followers but she had rarely ever slain a creature of Nature, even if a Bugbear is of Nature's descent. All she had with her was a common Steel Sword, one that she always keeps ready. But as quietly as she tried to be, the rasp of the sword leaving its sheath caught the monster's attention.  
  
The Bugbear slowly turned around to look at her, growling as it furrowed its beady yellow eyes. With a menacing step forward, it gave a roar of defiace. It slowly stalked towards Florina, fear rooting her to the spot. Giving a whimper of fear, Florina couldn't even move. Her legs, turned into jelly by meeting a monster of legends, didn't obey her commands.  
  
The dirt colored furred beast was soon towering over her, claws ready to consume her whole. But before it could make another move, a sudden blur of brown zoomed past her ear, sinking into the monster's mouth.  
  
An arrow...  
  
The Bugbear roared in rage, leaning back with its claws in the air. Another arrow whizzed through the air like a maddened hornet. The blur of ashwood sunk into the roof of the Bugbear's mouth, piercing the brain. The dark pupils within the yellow eyes turned misty and the eyes rolled upwards. Giving a pitiful moan, the Bugbear collapsed on its back, causing a great cloud of dust to rise.  
  
Florina slowly moved her head around, rooted in the spot of fear. Blocking the sun with her eyes, Florina was surprised to see who had saved her and Guy. A shadowy being on a horse slowly cantered toward her.  
  
"... Florina... Guy... I thought I'd find you both here," Rath said in his quiet way. Dismounting, he rummaged for a moment in his horse's pack. Pulling out several Elixirs and bandages, he glanced at Guy. Looking at Florina, Rath handed her a small vial of water.  
  
"He'll live. There's been rumors of a certain Swordmaster wandering these parts seeking a challenge," Rath said as he uncorked the blue vial in his hands. Sitting Guy up against his knee, the Nomad Trooper poured a little bit of the Elixir down the fallen Swordmaster's throat. Guy suddenly coughed and looked about in confusion.  
  
"What... what happened?" the disoriented Swordmaster mumbled as Rath laid his head on the ground.  
  
"G-g-guy?" Florina finally spoke after she finished drinking the water. "I-i-i was g-g-going to stop here for a break when I-i-i found you l-l-like this. The B-b-bugbear was g-g-going to eat you."  
  
"Hm... A bugbear?" Rath strode over to the carcass. "It looks like a bugbear, but it isn't."  
  
"What do you mean?" Guy asked as he slowly sat up with one arm resting on his right leg. "It most certainly looks like one to me." Rath scratched his neck for a while. Drawing his Silver Sword, he poked about the body. Finding a vial around the neck, he looped it around the sharp blade. Giving a sudden heave upon the chain, he severed it. The fur slowly disappeared, shrinking into the body that laid before the three.  
  
Fur disappeared into the body as the snout and eyes of the Bugbear also disappeared. They all slowly faded into mist and a strange yellow glow bathed the body. A breeze blew and the yellow glow slowly pealed off.  
  
Florina gave a surprised gasp. Before them was no longer a beast that was the terror of all legends and folktale. A body of a young Sacaen laid before them, ravaged by a arrow through his neck.  
  
Guy immediately recognized the body before him.  
  
"Feng!" Guy crawled next to the fallen comrade. Guy ripped apart Feng's shirt. Rolling Feng over onto his stomache, Guy stopped and turned a pasty color.  
  
"Feng... why?" Guy began to lose control of his emotions.  
  
"Who was he?" Florina said quietly as she slowly sat next to Guy. The broken and wounded Swordmaster couldn't help but wipe the tears from his eyes by using his shoulder.  
  
"He was..." Guy said thickly as he traced the wound on Feng's back. Why, of all Sacaens, why Feng? Why was Feng under the guise of a Bugbear? If only fate had fallen upon a Ganelon thief instead.  
  
"He was my brother..."  
  
=========  
  
"There's been reports of monsters like these sprouting up all over Elibe. Shadow Mages have been sighted Etruria, Undead Legions sprouting in the battle plains of Lycia, Sandworms reemerging from their millienia slumber the Nabata Desert," Rath looked at Florina out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"Ghost Pirates have appeared from the Western Isles, Incubis have also suddenly appeared in the Ilian Mountains and these Bugbears in the Sacaen Plains," Rath continued as he examined the carcass. "Only one thing is strange."  
  
"And w-w-what would t-t-that be?" Florina asked nervously. "It's evident t-t-that the entire Elibe c-c-continent is being attacked by these m-m-monsters. W-w-what is there m-m-missing?"  
  
"I know!" Guy exclaimed as he pounded his fist into his open hand. "Bern!"  
  
"Bern?" Florina looked confusingly from Guy to Rath. "W-w-what's Bern have to do w-w-with these monsters?" Rath nodded his head at Guy.  
  
"Bern seems to be the only nation without any problems from these monsters. It may be safe to say that the root of the problem seem to come from Bern."  
  
Suddenly, a rustling noise emerged from the bushes. Rath quickly drew his Silver Sword and crouched in defense. Florina gave a small squeak and shakily drew her Steel Sword. She slowly edged towards Guy, who was trying to get up. Cursing fiercely at the earth, Guy drew his Wo Dao and planted it in the ground, heaving himself up on his right leg. He then ripped his sword out of the earth by the hilt while leaning his weight of his right side. Guy then unconsciously stepped in front of Florina.  
  
Rath gave a low click, calling his horse to come near to him. The Arabian complied and trotted to where Guy and Florina were standing.  
  
"Get my bow, Guy," Rath ordered in a very low tone. Guy immediately dug into the pack and found Rath's Rienfletche. He then tossed the bow along with several arrows to Rath. Catching it all in one hand, Rath quickly sheathed his sword and drew his bow.  
  
"When I give the signal," Rath whispered to Guy and Florina. "Charge in and finish it off. The last thing we need is another living Bugbear." Guy slowly edged closer to the rustling bush with Florina shaking in tow.  
  
The young Swordmaster limped forwardly slowly, trying to minimize the noise his numbed leg was making as it was dragged across the floor of the woods. FLorina couldn't help but breathe faster as the two slowly inched closer to the shaking bush. Looking fearfully back at Rath, Florina mouth: "I can't do it!"  
  
The Nomad Trooper gave no notice as he carefully slid one of his arrows onto the Rienfletche. Barely rasping, the black-flighted arrow was ready for take-off. Taking a deep breathe through his mouth, Rath slowly stretched the string. Aiming ever so carefully, he waited for Guy and Florina to be in position.  
  
Time seemed to slow down Florina. She could feel the blood pounding in her system as more and more andrenaline poured through her veins. Sweat coated her brow as more of the salty liquid appeared in her palms. Her grip was slowly slipping but she tightly grasped her Steel Sword, ready to administer justice to the Bugbear.  
  
(What am you doing!) her mind screamed at her from the depths of her conscious. (This is an absolute suicidal action! Get out!)  
  
A nerve prickled on her back, causing her to tremble.  
  
The rustling seemed to grow louder as it continued to shake, making it resemble as if the creature behind it was more than one. Florina couldn't help but give a whimper of fright from behind Guy's back. The Swordmaster looked back to see a pair of begging green eyes.  
  
"P-p-please..." Florina said as quietly as her shaking voice could. "C-c-could you go and k-k-kill it quickly?" Guy nodded his head solemnly.  
  
Rath couldn't help but wonder if the creature behind the bush was really a Bugbear. But under such circumstances where all their lives are in danger, the Nomad Trooper couldn't afford to waste time in luring it out. Wood rasped against wood as he maintained the steady grip on his bow. Out of the corner of his right eye, he couldn't help but notice Florina taking slow and quiet steps away from where Guy was.  
  
"What are you doing!" Rath hissed between his teeth. Florina gave a small squeak and quickly ran behind Rath. The Nomad Trooper was ready to turn around to scold the Falcon Knight.  
  
"Why?" Rath hissed as he removed the arrow from his bow. "Guy's already injured bad enough! He needs help!"  
  
"W-w-well, I'm too s-s-scared!" Florina cried as pearly tears rolled down her alabaster cheek. "W-w-what if the Bugbear j-j-just only wanted to p-p-play?"  
  
"Aaaaaaagh!"  
  
His head whirled around to see the commotion. Rolling on the ground was Guy and an elderly warrior, both trying to choke the other before the other would choke him. Rath quickly stepped in and pulled the old man off of Guy. The young Swordmaster sat there on the ground rubbing his throat and sucking in the blessed pure air of the Sacae.  
  
The old man fought the grip which Rath had about his neck. Rath yelled as the ancient one bit his hand, forcing the Nomad Trooper to let him go. The old man scrabbled to his feet, not before snatching Guy's Wo Dao from the ground. The old man quickly adopted the most basic of swordfighting stances, the Tiger.  
  
"Tiger Stance, eh?" Rath leered as he too went into a fighting stance. With his left leg about three feet behind the other leg and with his left knee bent slightly. Rath held his sword in his right hand and his other resting near the hilt.  
  
The old man rushed forward with speed that Rath never had seen from one so ancient. Caught off guard, Rath barely blocked the first overhead swing. The old man swung upwards barely nicking Rath on the cheek. A thin trickle of blood appeared just barely below Rath's right eye, trailing down his cheek. The Nomad Trooper wiped his blood away with his free hand, allowing fresh blood to pool around the wound.  
  
Rath then leaped forward, thrusting hard at the direction of the old man, aiming for the elder's waist. For someone seemingly into his winter years, the old man nimblely dodged the attack, leaping backwards to block with Guy's Wo Dao. Raising the sword upwards for a second strike, both blades clashed against each other. Both men leaned heavily against the other's swords, grunting and heaving with all their might. Rath then gave a sudden burst of power, forcing the old man back several steps.  
  
The old man crouched his back leg, keeping his front leg slightly bent. Raising his sword arm upwards slightly to where the blade angled downwards, he made a gesture for Rath to strike first. The Nomad Trooper raced forward, throwing all caution that was left in him to the four winds. Striking deftly at the other's blade in an attempt to force it out of his grip, Rath began his onslaught. But all his slashes were to of no avail. No matter what direction and how much speed Rath put into his attack, the old man kept on dodging and blocking the blows, occasionally countering. Rath soon found himself forced against a tree, trying to dodge blows.  
  
Guy limped forward, ready to attack the old man. The hilt of the Wo Dao made contact with the top of his skull, causing Guy to waver for a moment. The Wo Dao hilt struck him once more on the head, causing the injured Swordmaster to collapse upon the ground. Florina gave a scream at the sight of blood arising from Guy's forehead, causing Rath to derive energy from anger.  
  
Rath quickly leaped forward at his opponent's unprotected back. Giving a howl of rage at the old man stooping to the level of further injuring an already injured warrior, he quickly found himself staring at the tip of Guy's Wo Dao.  
  
"Do not test my patience, young master," the old man said gruffly as he held the blade without wavering. "I have come bearing news. Both of good and bad."  
  
"Put away that sword, old man," Rath said as he knocked the blade away with his own. "Then I will listen to what you have to spout."  
  
"Agreed, young warrior."  
  
The old man deftly tossed the blade next to Guy. The Wo Dao planted itself tip first into the dirt next to Guy, quavering with the force of sinking into the earth. The old man reached within his brown robes and pulled out a scroll.  
  
"Who sent this?" Rath asked as he was given the scroll. The old man didn't say as he started to walk away. Quickly, Rath broke the seal and opened the scroll.  
  
"What's it say?" Florina asked as she helped Guy up. The fallen Swordmaster gave a groan as he rubbed his head.  
  
"What the hell happened?" Guy asked groggily. "Where's that bastard of an old man?"  
  
"Forget him." Florina and Guy looked at Rath curiously. Rath crumpled the scroll in one swift clench. Rath's glare was one of which could scour the skin off of a Flame Dragon. The scroll remained crumpled and hidden in his fist.  
  
"I must head to Badon..." Rath said as he quickly gathered his bow and sword. He strode past Guy and Florina with his bow slung across his shoulder and the sword sheathed at his side. The Nomad Trooper then started packing his equipment into the saddlebags on his horse. The crumpled scroll was also tipped into the bags.  
  
"What for?" Guy asked as Florina hung onto his arm. "What did the scroll say?" Rath looked at his stallion fondly and patted it on its neck before turning back to his fellow Sacaen and the Falcon Knight.  
  
"It is a personal matter I must attend to," Rath said as he grinned falsely. "It's something that I must only know of. I'm sorry that I can't tell you two what it is but I must travel to Badon."  
  
"We'll go with you," Florina said as she grabbed Rath by the arm. "Who knows what may lie in wait for you, seeking revenge."  
  
Rath gave a short forced laugh. "Florina, you have a wild imagination. Why would anyone dare to slay the next Chief of the Kutolah Tribe?"  
  
"Maybe someone does want you dead," Guy said darkly. "You'd best have at least someone else to have along." The Swordmaster drew his sword and stuck it in the ground. "Even though you're my Chief, I'll disobey you and follow you."  
  
"Aye, and me too!" Florina said fiercely as she also drew her sword. "You may need me to take care of a speedy foe!"  
  
"No!" Rath barked out, causing both of his friends to jump slightly. "It is a personal matter! What give you two the right to jump into my business? Hm? Guy, I thought you were at least somewhat responsible for yourself. Go back to the tribe and tell my father to keep you in line." The Nomad Trooper than rounded upon Florina.  
  
"I thought the mercenary wings of Ilia knew better than leaping into business that is none of theirs! You'd best return to your sisters and continue your mercenary business. I really hate to pierce your Pegasus with one of my arrows, Florina. Please, I beg of you two to stop and desist. This business is mine and mine only!"  
  
Rath leaped upon his stallion and quickly rode out of the glade. But something fell out of his packs. When Florina and Guy finally arrived at the edge, breathless and worried, they found only the crumpled scroll. Rath was already halfway gone in a column of dust, riding southwards to the Lycian border. 


End file.
